


and the thunder plays it's drum

by catsinouterspace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Gen, Prophecy, post cannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinouterspace/pseuds/catsinouterspace
Summary: As Insomnia is being restored an old bag of undelivered mail is found, in it a letter from Noctis.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	and the thunder plays it's drum

“Naaaw you two got be an early Christmas present!” Prompto laughed as he heard a knock on the door following the mail trucks arrival.

Gladio rolled his eyes, “Like we’d get a present for you delivered again.”

“You know going through mail addressed to someone else is a federal crime.”

Prompto stuck his tongue out, “Hardly fair when you make the laws Ignis.”

Ignis furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t make the laws, I’m just part of the process of establishing-“

“I’m going to go answer the door, Iggy.” Prompto told him, dashing from the dining table before Ignis could give him a lecture about the intricacies of Insomnia’s post-monarch-now democratic government system.

“Oh, Prompto,” the mailman said, an official looking envelope in his hand.

“Yeah, that’s’ me.” Prompto rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, he still wasn’t quite used to the post saving the world fame.

“I’ve got something for you too while you’re here.”

Prompto blinked, he was _fairly_ sure he’d just paid his utilities and he was with the only two people who may possibly send him something, but who wrote letters now anyway?

“It’s from a while ago I think.” It was the delivery guys turn to look sheepish, “We’ve nearly finished restoring the building and we found this bag from back before the wall fell.”

Prompto took the aged looking envelope, his heart stuttered in his chest as he instantly recognised the caged chicken scratch. “Oh.” Prompto managed, staring at the envelope as if it held the secret to the universe.

“Well, I better be going, uh round to make and all that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto jerked out of his reverie, “And, uh thanks.” The gratitude he offered didn’t seem to be enough to even begin to express what he was feeling.

Prompto stood by the door long after it was shut, tracing his eyes of the words, the slope of the a’s the way the two e’s of his old address curled into one another, making the lettering nearly ineligible to the untrained eye. Years of copying homework and sharing notes meant that Prompto’s eyes were very well trained.

“Prompto?” Ignis called from the kitchen.

The blond realised how much time he must have spent standing there.

“Ignis promises to not lecture you about politics!” Gladio called after him.

Prompto inhaled sharply through his nose, heading back into kitchen. “Here’s some super important government stuff for you, Iggy.” Prompto plastered on a smile, handing the envelope with the official looking stamp on it, but his smile couldn’t do much to obscure the whiteness of his face.

“Are you okay?” Gladio asked.

Prompto nodded, “They, uh, found an old bag of mail.” Prompto placed the envelope addressed to him on the table.

The silence that blanketed the room was suffocatingly heavy, with each breath Prompto could feel himself sucking it into his lungs like it was a tangible object, squeezing at his internal organs.

Not enough time had passed for them to breath his name again, getting him back from the crystal just to lose him again had nearly killed them, sure they all knew what would happen, afteral the prophecy hadn’t been wrong yet, but…

Every day it was so _clear_ that he was just. _Gone_. It was in every movement they made,  
Ignis’ job only existed because Noctis was gone, Gladio was training other people rather than the Prince, the three sets of plates set up on their weekly dinner nights. But still they didn’t acknowledge the gaping hole because pointing at it just made it clear how horribly large it was.

Now there was an envelope on the table and it was shining a flash light at the wound, and none of them were sure if they dared take a look.

“You don’t have to open it.” Ignis said softly.

“This could be the last thing we hear from him.” Gladio snapped back.

“I, um,” it was addressed to him. Clear as day _Prompto Argentum._ It was his choice. Prompto reached for the envelope, surprised to find his hands shaking as he flipped it over, running a finger tentatively over the seal.

“I can get a letter opener.” Ignis offered.

Prompto nodded his head. A life time ago he would have just ripped the envelope open, discarding it to read whatever was on the inside, now he can’t bear the thought of parting with something that had Noct’s handwriting on it.

Inside the letter were two photos, sepia edged. The first depicted a lake surrounded by dense forest, the water serenely smooth. The other was also taken at the lake but in it was Ignis, Gladio and Noct; the prince holding a fishing rod, Gladio shirtless with a bright orange floaty around his waist and Ignis, inexplicably still dressed in slacks, dress shoes and a button up. The picture felt like stepping into a world that no longer existed.

_Prom!!!_

_Merry Christmas! Or well after Christmas because I’m sending this on Christmas Eve and everything is shut, but I hope you had the most rad time ever – I think I’ll have a pretty cool time but it won’t be the best because you’re not here – you should totally come next year though, maybe you can distract Gladio with running talk so he doesn’t have to pester me all the time, and Iggy would LOVE to have someone who will actually eat his weird vegetables. Ahhh, I’m running out of space already – just means I’ll have to spend the rest of the summer with you to make up for it._

_Yours,_

_Noct_

It must have been sent the last year before Prompto started getting invited to the annual trip to the lack, over 15 years ago. Prompto still remembered the first time, his utter shock when the King had run down the pier in board shorts, yelling “Cannonball!” as he launched towards his son, splashing the pair of them.

Prompto hadn’t known Kings were _allowed_ to have fun. Noctis sure hadn’t got to have any fun as a king.

Prompto reached out to touch the photo, Noctis’ face grinning, happy to finally get some time to just be a teen enjoying his hobby rather than a prince. Ignis and Gladio watched him, waiting but not saying anything.

Prompto handed the contents of the envelope over to them, “You look good in orange, Gladio.”


End file.
